


DRBM - The Punchline

by Necbromancer



Category: Danganronpa, OCs - Fandom, Roleplay - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 08:03:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Necbromancer/pseuds/Necbromancer
Summary: Cut off from the world on the distant Kyariashima, Carrier Island, Hope's Peak Class 81 has to make due with what they've got, and what they've got is time, a beach, and ultimate talents. With the semester drawing to a close and the holiday break beginning, class 81E decides to put their skills to good use and throw a holiday beach party, unknowingly trapping themselves in a cycle of tropes and running gags that no anime character can escape from...A light-hearted gag story set in the 'Danganronpa - Blue Monday' universe.





	DRBM - The Punchline

“On average, the human body cools at about .83 C per hour after death. Anyone could, conceivably, determine the time of death based on the temperature of the body…provided, of course, that the body temperature was higher than room temperature.” Amelia concluded, nodding, cupping her mug with both hands.

“That makes sense. There’d be no way to determine how long a body had been at room temperature once it got there.” Replied Makino, nodding thoughtfully.

Magnus polished off his drink, looking down into the glass. “I wonder, though…a killer could tamper with that, though. If they set the thermostat in a room higher than normal and then turned it down…”

Makino’s eyes lit up, “They could make it look like the murder took place later than it did! That’s perfect. I can use that to build up an entire cast’s alibis and then tear them all down again in the middle of the chapter.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a writer, or everyone would think you’re a serial killer.” Replied Amelia, smiling cheerfully.

“Who says I’m not?” asked Makino, sticking out her tongue.

Nearby, the fire cracked and popped as Kei tossed in a few more logs. The flames sputtered, dipping low toward the sand before tiny flecks of orange began to sprout on the new lumber, embers springing to life along the lengths of dry wood. Hikari had set up her bass koto not far from the warmth of the bonfire, the sound of its many strings drifting gently on the light evening breeze, riding high on the backs of gently rolling waves. A long, blinking string of Christmas lights ran down the incline to the beach from the art studio, held aloft on a series of comically primitive stick stands to encircle the area. In the murmur of friendly voices and the warm glow of the firelight, Itsuki Nakamura felt at home. Though the traceur was most widely known for his daring feats of athleticism in urban environments, his attempts to conquer nature were the ones that left the biggest impression on him. The bonfire on the beach reminded him of the campsites of his youth; waystations on the way to the top of the mountain of the week. It always took much longer to reach the top than it did to get back down.

“What’s in this?” he asked, breaking his reverie, turning back to Suzume.

“It’s a Jamaican blend! The beans are grown at 5000 feet in the Blue Mountans…there’s a lot heavy rain in the area, so water is abundant. That’s why the beans lack the bitterness of other varieties!” she replied, smiling broadly.

“Oh…but its not just coffee, right? There’s vanilla, too, it tastes like…” Itsuki replied haltingly; he didn’t know enough about coffee to really carry that conversation.

“Ah! Yes! Vanilla ice cream, actually! There’s also cocoa powder and cinnamon! The coffee is really what brings it together, though, don’t you think?”

Itsuki glanced over to the punch servers; they looked a bit like a pair of giant mason jars. One of them was already empty. Itsuki rubbed his chin with a gloved hand. It was sort of surprising to see this many avid coffee-drinkers in high school… He couldn’t really recall anyone being that into coffee before tonight. Still, it was good punch. Very good, in fact. Itsuki could only assume that it was a result of the Super High-School Level Barista’s talent. Only someone like Suzume could make coffee beans sing like that. Itsuki wasn’t even feeling chilly, any more, despite the fact that he was wearing shorts.

“How’d you get these down here, anyway?” he asked, motioning to the large jars, “You’re not making the coffee here.” 

Suzume smiled. “Cody offered to bring them down from the art studio. We set up a little brewing station this afternoon.”

“That’s uncharacteristically cooperative of him.” Came Akira’s voice, sidling over to the table, one hand holding a mug, the other tucked into the pocket of her bomber jacket. Itsuki couldn’t help but notice that the prosthetic hand was the one in her pocket; she obviously wasn’t keeping it there for warmth.

“It really is, isn’t it?” Suzume pondered, “Maybe he’s finally starting to warm up to the rest of us?”

“Maybe. Hopefully that means he’ll stop bullshitting me all the time.” Itsuki laughed.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.” Akira said, grinning as she refilled her mug.

It wasn’t long before Cody brought down another two pitchers, cheerfully taking the empty jars back up the hill. He seemed in unusually good spirits, but, then again, it was a holiday party, after all. Hikari’s koto plucked away into the night, while Ryushi, Shizuka, and Akira traded tales of daring-do around the campfire, much to Keisaki’s delight; he was jotting down notes. Itsuki could only imagine what sort of play he was working on, now…though he did hope Kei wasn’t planning on working that many stunts into a Christmas play.

“Behold, mortals, we have returned from the nether-realm!” Magnus declared, raising his glass as he joined Itsuki and Suzume at the drink table. 

“He’s lying. We were literally, like, ten feet that way.” Makino interjected, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow.

“Zounds, I am stricken!” Magnus groaned.

As if through some supernatural ability, Keisaki seemed to sense someone nearby making a Shakespeare reference, and leaned back, yelling ‘Hack!’ over his shoulder.

Suzume refilled Amelia’s mug, then Makino’s, working her way around the group as she topped off everyone’s drinks. While she was working her way around, Maki Fuun and Cody both rejoined the group, Maki slipping in beside Makino with her own mug, a hand on the writer’s shoulder. “Don’t forget about me!”

Suzume didn’t, and refilled her mug as well.

“I gotta admit, I’m not usually big on coffee, but this stuff if something else.” Maki said, grinning.

“Well, thank you, Fuu-chan!” replied Suzume, beaming proudly.

Itsuki nodded, “Must be the ultimate barista’s talent at work.” He looked down at a gloved hand. His fingers were tingling faintly. He thought it was a little strange; he was the type to wear shorts in cold weather. He knew it definitely wasn’t cold enough for that, tonight. In fact, he felt quite warm.

“Mm-hm. Its very good. Makes me feel warm and cozy.” Amelia smiled, cheeks a bright red, holding her mug in both hands. She wobbled slightly, tilting to the left, leaning onto Magnus who suddenly looked spectacularly unsure of what to do with his hands. He laughed nervously, his own cheeks turning red. 

“I…ah…yeah…heh…” he stammered.

Itsuki’s eyes narrowed. Maki was leaning in really close to Suzume. Though, he didn’t necessarily think that was a bad thing. In fact, that could actually be… He shook his head, looking back over his shoulder toward the group gathered around the fire. Cry was talking to Akira with his mask off…Itsuki almost never saw Cry with his mask off. Ryushi was leaning in over Hikari’s shoulder, watching her play, though she seemed to be losing her focus… Even Dazai looked… Itsuki shook his head. The parkour artist looked down at the glass in his tingling fingers. The feeling had grown significantly more pronounced, a slow, awkward, clumsy realization coming over his decidedly foggy mind. He looked at Cody, who was standing a few feet from the drink table, hands clasped behind his head.

“Cody…did you…?” he asked clumsily.

“Spike the punch? I mean, yeah. Why wouldn’t I? It’s just a little bit of alcohol. At least, in the first batch. I tried something different with the second one.”

“Oh, god. This is going to get weird, isn’t it?” Itsuki asked, already knowing the answer.

“Every anime has that episode, so I thought we may as well get it out of the way, y’know?” Cody clasped his hands behind his head, rocking back and forth on his heels, grinning.

“I…I’m…kind of ok with weird.” Grumbled Magnus.

“Weird is great. I love weird. Who’s weird?” asked Makino, a warm, if lopsided smile on her face.  
“C’mooooon, you knew somebody was gonna do it. Somebody always does it. Just relax and enjoy it.” Cody snickered, and Itsuki covered his face with his palm. The cheeky bastard wasn’t exactly wrong. There really was always somebody spiking the damn punch.


End file.
